My Grandmother's first staycation

Sunday, September 18th, 2016

Los Angeles, CA / Destin, FL

It’s 5am PST and I am waking up for my flight to Florida to celebrate my grandmother’s 90^th birthday! I am way tired, but if I miss this flight my Dad will kill me. I drag myself out of bed, brush my teeth, and climb into my travel clothes (which border on pajamas). By 6am I am at LAX for my 7am flight.

The flight to Florida is uneventful. I have a layover in Atlanta, since there are no direct flights. I am tired, but I am also losing 2 hours of the day due to the time difference, so I will go to bed 2 hours early.

Eventually I arrive in Pensacola, FL at 3:30 pm CST. My Dad is waiting for me outside of the airport in his truck and my 90 old Grandmother is sitting in the back seat. They insist that I sit in the front and I can tell that there has already been at least one fight. I hop into the front seat and we are off!

At the last minute this family vacation for 5 turned into a vacation of 3. Sadly my Mom had to stay in Texas to take care of my other grandmother who recently had a heart attack. My brother is staying in Texas too. Nonetheless, I am happy and had completely forgotten how hilarious my Grandmother can be.

Once we arrive in Destin we decide to go to the grocery store to buy food to cook for dinner. My Grandmother insists on waiting in the car, so my Dad and me reluctantly enter the store. We buy a basket full of groceries, which includes steak and broccoli for dinner and a few different kinds of breakfast food. Eventually we make our way back to our condo for the next 3 nights. My Grandmother lives in an assisted living facility down the street, however, my Dad has rented an awesome beach condo for the next 4 days so that we can all stay together and my Grandmother, at age 90, can enjoy her first staycation.

When we finally arrive at the condo, it turns out that it’s not actually facing the ocean. Instead it’s facing a row of other condos. We all try to be cheerful though and start settling in for the night. I take a quick walk down to the beach and catch the tail end of an amazing sunset. Next I sit in the living room with Grandmother, while my Dad cooks us dinner. After a fulfilling meal we all hang around the kitchen table for a few hours drinking wine and talking.

Finally, around 10pm we decide to call it a night. My Dad and I have to share a bathroom, but we are both good sports about it. My Grandmother is sleeping in the master suite with a very large bathtub, with hot tub-style jets. She jokes about getting stuck in tub and we all laugh.

Once I finally get shower access, I am exhausted. I run through my bedtime routine in a half-drunken daze and am asleep before my head hits the pillow.

Tomorrow is our beach day. I am super excited!

Touch the English Channel. Check.

Sunday, July 24^th, 2016

Hastings, UK

It’s 9am BST and I am waking up for my first (and last) full day in Hastings. Today is Pirate Day and it’s pretty much what you think it is. People dress like pirates and day drink... I can not freaking wait.

I have a full day to explore, so I start out with a quick run on the path by the sea. It’s not too crowded and the weather is amazing (sunny and cold). I end my run at a rocky beach and actually walk up to the water and put my hand in. I have a sudden urge to add “Touch the English Channel” to my bucket list so that I can cross it off. 

I am feeling accomplished as I slow jog back to my flat. After my post-run shower, I officially start the day with French pressed coffee and some unidentifiable British soap operas. I eat toast with jam for breakfast and am ready to head into town.

I start my day in New Town. My plan is to explore, shop, and hopefully purchase something that looks piratey. There is a mall and a ton of stores, but I cannot find any interesting clothes to buy. All of the stores look like TJ Maxx inside. I am disappointed, but I also understand that small town charm comes at a cost. After about an hour of looking around I decide to head over to Old Town. This is the home of Pirate Fest.

As I approach the arch separating Old Town from New Town I can already hear the festivities. There is a small, open-air market where I buy a pirate themed bandana and large purse with an elephant on it. Old Town is filled people and the bars are overflowing.

I decide to check out The Stade (a really rocky beach) on the outskirts of Old Town. The Stade is home to the largest beach launched fishing fleet in Europe. It's littered with old, but functional, fishing boats. Next to them is a fish market (mostly closed) and area of multi-colored storage shacks. This entire area is very run down and terribly picturesque. It has a grungy charm that seems to be lost on the locals.  

Next stop is the East Hill, which overlooks Old Town and The Stade. I take the funicular up, it’s only a short distance, but my feet are starting to hurt. The view at the top is amazing. There is a lone vendor selling ice cream and I am so charmed by everything that I cannot help but buy some. I spend the next hour or so walking around the East Hill, which is mostly nature, and taking selfies. The light up here is amazing.

Eventually I make my way back down to Old Town. I keep playing with the idea of going inside one of the bars for a beer, but I can’t really find a good place to sit. It is very crowded. Eventually I settle for making a few laps through town and then heading over to the grocery store. Determined to live like a local I purchase some groceries to cook in my flat. I also grab some beer that I have never heard of. My feet are very, very tired and my plan is to walk back up to my flat, eat a late lunch and then go back to Pirate Fest. As soon as I arrive, however, I realize that I am done for the day. My feet are exhausted. I can see the festival out of my front window and that is good enough for me.

I make my dinner and open up my Pirate Day beer. It’s not great, but I am going to power through it on principal. I spend the next few hours Skyping with friends and family from home. Once I am done with my calls I settle in to complete my binge watching of Bloodline. I have one more week of work in Battle before I fly back to Los Angeles.

It’s a big pile of cold, slimy, naked mussels.

Saturday, July 23rd, 2016

Hastings, UK / Rye, UK

It’s about 9am BST and I am settling in to this time zone nicely. After a wonderful night’s sleep I crawl out of bed to make my American coffee using a French press that I found in my AirBnB kitchen. All week I have been enjoying the effects of jet lag by waking up early and drinking coffee while watching Good Morning Brittan. This morning, however, I have missed the news and the only thing on TV is Murder She Wrote. It’s okay though, the TV is mostly background noise while I sip my coffee and stare out of the window at the English Channel. My AirBnB flat is truly beautiful.

After 2 episodes of Murder She Wrote, I decide to start my day, which will include brunch and a day trip to Rye. I grab my purse and current reading material (Hothouse, by Brian Aldiss) and head down to Old Town. There are a slew of open-air restaurants next to the sea selling all sorts of yummy seafood. I do a few laps before I find one that is not too crowded (but also not too empty). I sit at a small table on the sidewalk and decide on a breakfast of fresh mussels, chips, and Stella Artois (I am so into Hastings right now!).

About 10 minutes later when my food arrives I am surprised to learn that the mussels are served chilled and have already been removed from their shells. It’s a big pile of cold, slimy, naked mussels. It’s a little gross but it’s also okay since beer and french fries make everything better.

From brunch I start the arduous task of finding the main train station in Hastings. After about 20 minutes, I am finally successful. The train to Rye leaves in about 30 minutes. It’s a nice day, so I head outside to wait on the platform. The train station is very small, but it's still not clear which platform I need to stand on. I make my best guess and sit down to read and intermittently play Pokemon. About 10 minutes before the scheduled time, a train pulls up to the platform opposite of me. There is no way that is the train to Rye.

Shit. That was the train to Rye. 

I go back into the station to figure out what to do next. The next train is 45 minutes away. Double shit. I’m already committed to going to Rye today, so I decide to sit and wait. Besides the Pokemon are not going to catch themselves.

Approximately 3 chapters of Hothouse and 4 Pokemon later the next train to Rye arrives, right on time. I successfully board and arrive in Rye 20 minutes later.

Rye is cute and small. The streets are old cobblestone and are very narrow and winding. It’s filled with teeny tiny antique stores and ice cream shops. I feel like a giant here.

I don’t really have a plan so I walk around looking at antiques. There are multiple reasons why I will not buy any antiques here, but I really want to experience Rye and this seems to be the thing to do. After about 30 minutes of shopping I am bored. I buy some overpriced ice cream and sit on a bench to look at the sea.

Around 4:30pm all of the stores are starting to close and the streets are clearing out. I do a few searches on my iPhone on attractions in Rye and cannot find anything else to do. I am starting to wonder why my co-workers sent me here.

Around 5pm I give up and head back to the train station. I end up waiting another 20 minutes for the train.

Back in Hastings I walk to my flat and feel inexplicably exhausted. I decide to order in (King Kabob is getting to know me by now) and continue binge-watching Bloodline. I can not help but feel that today was unfulfilling, but then again all days can’t be winners.

It was overpriced anyway.

Monday, July 11^th, 2016

Hastings, UK / Bexhill, UK

It’s 7am BST and I am waking up extra early to return my rental car before taking a taxi to work in Battle. I use Apple maps to find a gas station next to Enterprise and set the address on my GPS.

My temporary flat is on a hill and the streets to get down to the main road are very narrow. I hold my breath as I navigate down to the main road. I am somehow successful.

The drive to Bexhill is pretty easy compared to the last 2 days. When I pull into the gas station I attempt to pay at the pump, but there is no credit card reader. I go inside to tell the attendant that I want to pay for gas but he does not seem to understand me. We both speak English but neither of us understand each other. Eventually I figure out that he wants me to pay after I pump. I find this very strange, but I am happy to have instructions on how to purchase gas here. 

I pump the gas and the total ends up around £50 (which is almost $80). I feel this is a little steep, but I really have no say in the matter. I return inside to pay and we both laugh at our misunderstanding.

Before I leave the gas station I take one more look at my passenger’s side mirror. The glue is holding and it looks almost as good as new. I make the short drive to Enterprise Rent-a-Car.

I have a quick conversation with the attendant while I return the car and request a cab. I wait patiently inside, while I watch my car go through inspection outside. The crew is just starting to wash it when my cab arrives. I bolt into the cab and make my escape with the rental fully intact.

I feel kind of bad about returning a damaged car but on the other hand, it was pretty overpriced. I sigh one last time and am off to start my work week.  

One red wire and one black wire

Sunday, July 10^th, 2016

Salisbury, UK / Hastings, UK

It’s 8:30am BST and I am waking up from a very bad night’s sleep. My hotel is old and charming, but it is also super hot inside. Air conditioning is something that I definitely take for granted.

I have big plans for the day so I get ready and quickly pack my bag. The hotel serves a hot breakfast for £10, so I make quick stop in the dining room. I serve myself a traditional English breakfast from the breakfast bar and it is terrible. Oh well, I have places to go.

I walk back over to the public parking lot to drop my bag in my car. Next I head to the Salisbury Cathedral where one of the four surviving copies of the Magna Carta will be on display. On the way to the cathedral, I stop off at Starbucks. This is the first Starbucks that I have seen since LA and I am praying that they have half and half. I order a small coffee and am only offered milk and sugar.

When I arrive at the cathedral I learn that it does not open to the public until 11am. It’s okay though, it’s 9:30am and there are a ton of amazing photo opportunities in the area. I spend the next 15 minutes taking photographs of the outside of the cathedral. It turns out that large, immobile buildings make very good subjects. I also take a walk around the courtyard where I find a quaint museum all about Stonehenge. The woman behind the counter sells me an overpriced ticket promising free admission for the rest of the year. Thanks lady.

The Stonehenge museum is adorable. It reminds me of the little museums that you would find in small town America. There is an exhibit on ancient history, a subject on which I clearly need a refresher. There is also an eclectic collection of clothing, art, and dishes. It doesn’t make a whole of sense, but that’s part of the charm. After about 45 minutes of browsing I wander back to the cathedral. They are still closed, but the gift shop has opened. I browse through the shop and purchase a set of coasters. They have little funny British comics on them and will come in handy one day when I actually purchase a coffee table.

At 11am sharp the Cathedral opens to the public and I am one of the first people to enter. The main seating area is gorgeous, complete with stained glass and lots of old art. Eventually, I enter the exhibit area, where there are multiple stations explaining the importance of the Magna Carta. I read everything; my knowledge is embarrassingly limited. Eventually I get to the end of the exhibit, where the 800+ year document is stored in a case, in a tent, guarded by an British docent. I have to duck to enter the tent. Once inside, it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the light.  The Magna Carta is much smaller than I imagined. The whole document is written on one piece of paper (it’s written in abbreviated Latin). I am in the tent with a few other tourists and there is an awkward silence. I ask the docent a few polite questions about how the document has been preserved but he really doesn't seem to know anything. Great, I have succeeded in making things more awkward. After a few minutes I leave the tent and head back to the car.

It’s almost noon and I have 8 full hours to get to Stonehenge before it closes. I am feeling good about my odds of success.

Upon examining the map I notice that Old Sarum is on the way from Salisbury to Stonehenge. These are ruins from an old Norman castle. It’s as old as Stonehenge, but not as well preserved. I decide to check it out. As I approach I see a guy in a bright green T-shirt that waves at me to stop. He informs me that a fun run is taking place and the road is closed. I ask for an alternate route and he replies that he is from Whales and he doesn’t know. I spend the next 20 minutes looking for another way into Old Sarum before I finally give up.

On to Stonehenge.

I arrive around 1pm. The line at the ticket booth is enormous. I get in line and immediately start trying to figure out a way to buy tickets on my iPhone. After about 15 minutes of research I give up. 30 minutes later, I acquire my ticket. 

Wow. This is definitely more difficult than I thought.

Before heading over to the ruins I take a quick snack break at the café. I grab a coffee and some brownies and sit down to refuel. The food is not very good. I am not surprised.

There are two options to get to Stonehenge from the ticket booth, either walk or take a bus. I opt to walk. The wind is pretty bad, but the landscape is really amazing. There are small rolling hills of wind-swept grass and teeny tiny trees for as far as the eye can see. The walking path is about a mile long and cuts through a field. I see a few cows and am mildly concerned that they will charge at me. Eventually, I am able to see the ruins on the horizon.

As I approach, I somehow take a wrong turn and end up outside of the fencing around the monument. It’s okay though, I am able to get some great long shots of the ruins and the line of people waiting to see it. I attempt a few selfies but am unsuccessful (For the first time in my life, I wish I had a selfie stick.) Next, I retrace my steps and enter the viewing area with everyone else. There is another security fence around the actual stones, which prevents tourists from trying to push them over (something that I have been imagining for the last week). On the bright side, this set up results in some great photographs.

Stonehenge is definitely big. It’s bigger than it looks in pictures and it is way more popular with tourists than I ever imagined. After a few laps I finally get into line for the bus back to the ticketing area.

Upon arrival I spend a few more minutes in the gift shop and then do a quick swing though of the exhibit area which explains how Stonehenge was made. It turns out it was made with pulleys. I find this information both boring and disappointing. I head back to the Mazda station wagon to make the drive back to Hastings.

I am gaining some confidence in my driving abilities, but am still basically terrified. Also, I am getting very hungry, but there is nowhere to stop.

About 20 minutes outside of Hastings I decide that it's time to make my best attempt at reattaching the passenger side mirror, and pull over into a parking lot near an empty warehouse. I find a cleaning cloth for my sunglasses in my purse and buff the mirror and the mirror enclosure to the best of my abilities. To my surprise most of the scuff marks come off. Next I clean the back of the mirror and re attach two loose wires. One is red and one is black. I have no idea which one goes where, so I make a guess. Nothing blows up. 

From here I squirt half a tube of super glue all over the back of the mirror and the enclosure. I press the mirror back into the enclosure and hold it there for 3 full minutes. I am holding my breath the entire time. When I remove my hands, the mirror stays in place.

I climb back into the car and gently drive back to my flat in Hastings. It feels like I have been gone for a full week. Around 8pm I collapse on the couch. I make an online order for King Kabob and wait patiently for glorious food.

I spend the rest of the evening watching Bloodline on Netflix and profusely thanking the car gods that I did not kill anyone.